Radioactive
by Crazy Pink Penguin
Summary: When Elisha first met Rick Grimes, she never expected to become his bed buddy during the Walker apocalypse while attempting(and failing) to keep her true feelings hidden because he "Couldn't give her more". But then again, she hadn't expected the dead to rise either. Rated 'M' for all the good stuff ;).
1. Introduction

**Hey guys! So here's the start to my new Rick/OFC story! I don't usually do an 'introduction' chapter but one of my lovely reviewers requested that I did one until I start posting the story itself :). So here it is! I'm currently 5 chapters in and once i know exactly where I'm going with the story, I'll start posting them :). Enjoy!**

**Warnings for this story: Possible non-detailed rape(because what's a Walking dead story without it?), _very_ explicit sex scenes(yay), cursing, violence, blood, gore and everything else along those lines. Which means_ no under 18's_ please!**

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><p><span><strong>Radioactive<strong>

No one knew how it started, what caused it, or how it managed to take over the whole world in what seemed like a blink of an eye.

Sure, there had been news reports, warnings, precautions; and then road blocks, quarantines, and evacuation camps. But in the end it wasn't enough. It had _never_ been enough.

The entire human race gone. Extinct. Non-existent. _Wiped out_.

Only a handful of people managed to survive the outbreak, scavenging cities and towns for food and supplies while fighting off masses of the _walking dead_.

Elisha was one of them. She honestly couldn't say she was alive for any other reason than _pure luck_. She had no special skills, no survival experience, no group. She was alone with nothing other than the clothes and tinned food in the bag on her back.

And then she met Rick Grimes, and the end of the world got a whole lot more complicated.


	2. Knight in shining blood soaked boots

**Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! You guys are AWESOME :D.**

**Yep, I know right, _finally _the first chapter is here. I thought I better give you guys something for being so paitent with me :). I still have no idea where this is going I'm just kinda letting it flow. So I know just about as much as you do. Hah.**

**Enjoy :). **

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

_Knight in shining blood soaked boots._

"Come on out, girl," the man's gruff and irritated voice calls out. "If I don't get ya, the Infected will, and believe me when I say I'll be more gentle than them." he cackles evilly before breaking off into a coughing fit.

Elisha bites into her bottom lip hard as she crawls on her hands and knees quickly to the next car in front of her. It was a red three seater, she wasn't sure which make or model, and had been abandoned like all the other cars on the stretch of road she was on.

As soon as she reaches it she leans back against it, ignoring the items in the bag on her back which dig into her skin. She was getting tired now, having been doing this for the past twenty minutes without a break.

She wasn't entirely sure what the man wanted. He'd approached her while she'd been searching through cars - the ones which hadn't been overturned or crashed – and had started yelling at her, accusing her of stealing his tinned peas.

At that point he'd been standing pretty close and she'd noticed the smell of alcohol on his breath. Yeah, apparently not even zombies stopped addictions. She guessed that some things were more important than living to some people. Which she could understand if he'd lost someone. Maybe a wife, brother, or even kids.

But _no_. This guy was angry over a lost tin of peas which he thought _she'd_ stolen.

After she'd politely (okay, not really) told him to '_fuck off, piss head'_ he'd pulled a hammer out of the back of his pants and attempted to chase after her.

_Attempted_ because as soon as his foot went forward and his top lip curled into a snarl, he lost his balance and fell flat on his face.

Elisha had then walked away from the forty-odd year old man with grey hair (which was balding at the front) at that point, deciding that it was better than waiting around for his drunken attempts at killing her.

But he didn't give up easily and as soon as he managed to get back to his feet, he pulled out an object which looked worrying like a handgun. She had absolutely no idea where he could have gotten such a weapon and for a moment, questioned whether or not she was seeing things but then he aimed it at her with a wobbly arm and she'd instinctively jumped behind the first vehicle she'd come across.

"Come on girl, I just want my food back!" the man shouts out way louder than he should in a world where the living dead were around every corner.

Elisha knows that the sound will, without a doubt, bring the Infected down onto them. It was a matter of _when_. With her lip still trapped in her teeth, she turns and slowly sits herself up on her knees, peeking over the bonnet of the car which was hiding her.

Her heart jumps when she sees just how close he was to her. Only a few cars down and one car over. All he has to do it switch lanes and he'd find her.

So she goes back to crawling.

She turns left into the next lane, the gravel digging into her hands and knees. She wouldn't be surprised if her palms were bleeding by now, and surely her dark blue jeans which already had three holes in them, had two more at the knees.

Once she was a lane over, she begins crawling forward. She passes three cars but she didn't pay any attention to them. Her gaze remains on the ground as she attempts to even out her breathing. It sounds so loud to her own ears and she's worried he will be able to hear it.

And then a pair of blood stained cowboy boots appear in front of her, causing her heart to jump into her throat once more.

Before she looks up at the owner, she already knows they aren't an Infected. They weren't groaning and gasping for air, they also didn't smell like a rotted, walking piece of flesh, and if it had been an Infected, she would have been its meal by now.

Which means she's just walked – well, more like _crawled_ – straight into a living person. A man, she guesses, from the size of the dirty boots on his feet.

She gulps, blinks, and takes a deep breath before slowly moving her gaze upwards.

His pants are the black, many shades darker than her own and with double the amount of rips and tears. They're worn, most likely the only pair he really owns because at the end of the world, clothes shopping is _far_ from important.

Which means it isn't the crazy drunk guy because he'd been wearing a pair of brown chinos. So who the hell had decided to join in?

As her gaze moves even higher, she tries to ignore the very obvious...er, _snake_ in his trousers. Whoever this guy was, he was certainly packing some heat, and she wasn't talking about his weapons.

Although... speaking of weapons, he has some kind of make-shift knife holder attached to a large dark, leather belt. It hung from the right side of his hip, and on the other side of his hip was a similar holder but it was a different style from the other one, and it was empty.

With a throat which was feeling rather dry, she continues her journey and forces her gaze even higher. A dirty, blood splattered, greeny-brown coloured shirt hung from his lean frame, sleeves rolled up to the elbow revealing tanned, dirt-stained arms.

She bites her tongue and moves her eyes up further. A few buttons of his shirt was undone, showing her a slightly hairy chest which she couldn't help but linger on. Black straps wrapped around his broad shoulders and under his arm from the backpack he carried.

For some reason, she found herself holding her breath as her gaze finally reaches his face.

_Oh my._

Just because it was the end of the world, and just because she was in the process of being chased by a crazy old guy who thinks she stole his tinned peas, didn't mean she wasn't a female who didn't appreciate a _very_good looking male.

He has a strong jaw with bow shaped lips, a masculine nose and slightly visible cheek bones. His eyes are bright blue, a colour so bright she was almost sure they were contacts.

His hair is long and dark brown, or maybe black? She couldn't be sure. The style was messy, looking as if he spent a good part of his day running his fingers through it. It fell just above his eyebrows, most likely from lack of a hairdresser than a style choice. It was also slightly curly; adorable, in her opinion.

To sum it up, he was extremely good looking, not exactly muscular but toned and fit, and around forty years old with facial hair she wouldn't mind rubbing against the inside of her thighs. Heh.

For four heartbeats, she just gazes up at him, wondering whether or not he was an angel, or maybe the devil in disguise.

He raises his eyebrows at her, the expression on his face a cocktail of amusement, agitation and confusion.

Elisha closes her mouth, only just realising now that she'd been catching flies, and licks her lips before her mouth parts once more in an attempt to greet him. Would a casual _'hello'_ work?

But before she can utter a word, he's reaching down with a strong arm and he's gripping her left biceps in his long fingers, and then he's forcing her into a stand.

She panics briefly, knowing that they were now visible to the drunken guy but her new 'friend' doesn't seem bothered by it. Fear washes over her - could they be together?

She glances over her shoulder, trying to ignore the tight grip which remains on her arm, but instead of seeing the old drunk guy, her eyes take in the white paint of a large van which was hiding her and her companion from view.

Licking her cracked lips, she turns her head forward and her eyes connect with the man in front of her. "Are you with him?" are the first words she says to him.

He seems to ignore her question. "Put your hands on your head." was his response, his voice deep and dangerous with a slight southern twang.

She knew it wasn't a suggestion; it was an order, and if she hadn't spotted the python dangling from his spare hand, slightly hidden behind his leg, she _might_have disobeyed.

_Am I the only person without a gun?_ She wonders to herself as she brings up her arms and entwines her fingers together behind her messy, sandy brown hair. At some point she must have lost her hair-band which meant her long hair was now dangling just above her breasts.

Elisha tries not to panic as the man takes a step forward, moves his hand from her arm and begins to pat her down with it. She holds her breath when his hand slips under the material of her unzipped, plain black jacket, and accidentally brushes against the side of her right breast.

If he noticed her reaction, it didn't show on his face. His hand slides down her side, to her jeans where he feels around her pockets and down the outside her leg, forcing him to bend down in order to reach.

He searches her ankle, making sure there wasn't any hidden weapons in her flat, worn, black boots or mismatching stripy socks before sliding his hand up the inside of her leg.

She tries to ignore the warmth of his palm as he reaches the inside of her thigh. Now is _not_ the time to want him to slide it higher. "So," she clears her throat awkwardly as he removes his hand from her and she's left feeling strangely unsatisfied. It really must have been a _long_ time since she'd been with a man if she was getting thrills from a pat-down. "What's your name?"

He ignores her question once more and passes his python to his other hand before he repeats his previous actions on her, but this time with his left hand.

Elisha sighs and glances over her shoulder again. The dusty white van in the way meant she couldn't see whether or not the drunken man was still around. She could no longer hear him which could mean a few different things.

He could have given up and left, or the man currently patting her down for weapons could be his companion and now that she was caught, he no longer had to search for her. Or maybe he'd been eaten by some Infected, but she doubted she was that lucky.

She jumps suddenly and turns back around when she feels the mystery man's hand brush against her backside. It wasn't a perverted caress, or an attempt to crop a feel, he was simply searching her back pockets for any kind of weapon.

When his hand reaches the bottom of her back, she gives him a sheepish smile, and he pulls out a long piece of metal with a sharp tip which she'd had tucked into the back of her trousers. She had no idea what it actually was; it had most likely broken off of something bigger but it got the job done.

He holds it in his hand and examines it with an unreadable expression before tucking it into the back of his own jeans. She can't help but scowl at him – he'd better give that back when he was finished.

His hand then returns to her once more, this time searching around the left side of her hip before sliding up her side and brushing against her left breast. Not having found any other weapons, he does a quick search of the deep pockets in her black jacket before gesturing to the bag on her back.

"Give it."

She lowers her arms before sliding them out of the straps of her old, blue bag and holding it out to him. "Are you robbing me?" she couldn't help but ask. She'd be pretty pissed if he was but with that shotgun on his person, there wasn't much she could do about it.

He places his weapon into the empty holster on his hip before snatching the bag off of her. He flips the flap off of the top before he pulls the drawstrings open and places his hand inside. "No." he answers her eventually.

Well that was something, she guessed. As she watches him searching through her belongings, she nibbles on the inside of her cheek impatiently. She just wants to get out of here, away from the crazy drunk guy, and the guy who oozed sex.

Although she can't help but admire him while he's distracted. His legs were parted, stance wide with high shoulders. Everything about him seems to demand respect, and scream confidence. She finds it pretty intimidating... And a turn on.

Christ, she really needs to find a vibrator on her next run.

When he's finished, he passes the bag back to her. "With who?" he questions out of the blue.

Elisha glances up at him as she ties the strings on her bag up. He was taller than her, probably around six-foot-something which made him just over a foot taller than her short-arse. "What?" she asks back, wondering what the hell he was on about.

He rolls his eyes, showing his frustration. "Earlier you asked me if I was with 'him'. With who?" he explains before repeating his question.

Her eyes widen slightly and she glances behind her once more. For a moment she'd forgotten how she was running (well _crawling_) for her life. "This guy was after me. He had a gun." she tells him honestly before slipping the bag onto her back and walking over to the rear end of the van where she peeks around the corner, trying to spot the old man.

Elisha saw him immediately; he was passed out on the back of an old, paint chipped, blue pick-up truck. He was two lanes away and the only reason she knew it was him was because of the brown chino covered legs sticking out from the back of the truck.

"Oh." was the only thing she could think of saying.

The mystery man behind her approaches and stops just short of touching her. She could feel the heat which came from his body like a radiator, and she knew he'd seen what she'd been looking at because he started to chuckle.

"Him? Really?" he sounds as if he cannot believe the passed out man could be much of a threat, and Elisha couldn't really argue with him.

"Shut up," she responds weakly, feeling her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "He... he had a gun."

The mystery man passes her and dodges the cars as he approaches the passed out guy. Elisha can't help herself and she finds herself following him.

When they reach the drunk-fuck, the mystery guy bends down and picks up the drunken guy's weapon where it laid forgotten on the floor beside the truck. He holds the handle between his thumb and forefinger and Elisha quickly realises that something was off – the 'gun' looks _way_ too light. _So_ light that when the wind blows, it sways between the man's fingers.

She sucks her lips into her mouth before releasing them and muttering: "It's a toy gun."

The man chuckles once more. It was quiet just like his last laugh, almost as if he was trying to hold it in but was unable stop himself.

"It's a toy gun." he repeats her words with much amusement before throwing the plastic toy back onto the ground.

"I couldn't tell from the distance!" she attempts to defend herself. "It looked real, and I've never seen one before so how was I supposed to know it wasn't!"

The drunken man in the truck rolls onto his back, most likely disturbed by the volume of her voice, before he begins to mumble something about peas in his sleep.

Mystery guy shakes in head in response before he turns and heads back the way he came.

Elisha froze for a moment, glancing between his retreating form and the passed out drunk guy. Realising very quickly that she didn't want to be left alone with the alcoholic (the gun might be fake but the hammer was _not_), she heads after the hunk.

"Hey, wait up!" she calls out to him as she jogs to catch up. Dodging the cars wasn't easy because of her speed and she ends up smacking her shin into the corner of a red convertible. "Ouch. Dammit." she curses while attempting to walk and rub her sore leg.

"_Please_." she begs when she realises that he's getting further away and is about to disappear into the forest on the side of the road.

He stops, pauses for a moment, and then his broad shoulders sag slightly as he makes his decision. He turns around with an impatient expression.

"What?" he barks at her, all humour from the moments before gone.

She also stops, the hand on her injured leg moving as she straightens her back. She was still standing in the road with cars surrounding her while he was waiting on the grass, ready to disappear just as quickly as he arrived.

Elisha wasn't entirely sure _why_ she was following him and wanting him to wait for her. He owed her nothing and had no obligation to her _at all,_ so why had she stopped him in his tracks?

"Well?" he pushes when she didn't respond.

"Are you alone?" she says finally.

He sighs, looking as if he could predict the direction the conversation was heading. "Does it look like there is anyone with me?" is his response, and although he tries to hide it, there is pain behind his words.

Elisha shifts on her feet awkwardly. "I'm alone as well."

"That's not my problem, honey." he tells her firmly.

A fluttering appears in her belly at the pet name and she tries her hardest to ignore it; it didn't mean anything. She figures it's a normal reaction to an attractive man using a form of endearment.

Knowing he probably wasn't going to budge, she decides to drop it. She wasn't sure travelling with him would be a good idea anyway.

"What's your name?" If they were going their separate ways, she at least wanted something to call him by.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes." she responds immediately.

He brings his right hand up and rubs three fingers against his lips as he considers her request. "Rick." he answers eventually, his hand dropping from his face.

The corner of her lips curl slightly as she nods at him in greeting. "Rick." she repeats. "I'm Elisha."

He acknowledges her nod with his own one before turning his back on her and once again heading towards the woods. "Watch your back out there, Elisha."

She waits until his figure disappears between the pine trees before letting a frown scrunch up her features. "You too, Rick."


End file.
